"They can't be stopped."
"These... these are not... Ahhh!"
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!
"Help m—"
Pitch-black blood splashed over the camera, the words for help failing to be completed as supernatural body parts were violently blown into the air.
There were three seconds of silence before the view shook heavily with a rhythm similar to that of someone stepping forward, and a massive pitch-black hand oozing with shadow covered the view.
CRAACK!
Cracks splintered all across it, and then the holograph went dark.
____
It was a barely lit hall.
Nine Astral Projections hung suspended in the air, each housing a person and occupying a place around a rectangular table that stretched ten meters long.
There was only a single person with a real physical form in the room, and he sat at the head of the table.
White hair, white eyes, white shirt, pale white complexion.
He was a man who appeared to embody the color white itself.
"They're losing to them... rapidly."
